Keeping Patience
by Meum Cerebrum Nocet
Summary: Harry and Ron saved the wizarding world, but they may loose it trying to teach their kids to play Quidditch.


**_Summary:_** _Harry and Ron saved the wizarding world, but they may not survive trying to teach their kids Quidditch._

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I own no recognizable content._

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 **Keeping Patience**

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 _He that can have patience can have what he will_

 _~Benjamin Franklin_

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When they looked back on that day, neither would admit whose idea it had been. Either they generally forgot or, more likely, neither wanted to claim any blame that may be associated with it. Whatever the reason, on a warm and sunny morning one July day, Harry and Ron took their young children out to the orchard behind the Burrow to teach them to play Quidditch.

"I am going to be Seeker! Even better than you, Dad!" six-year-old James exclaimed, pointing a smug finger at his father. He had a small broom slung over his shoulder and was a slightly over-large Puddlemere United shirt, one he had gotten at his first live match a few months prior. Harry simply chuckled at his eldest son and ruffled his already messy hair.

"Your dad was a fairly spectacular Seeker, James. That's a tall order you've proclaimer," Ron responded, a slight chuckle in his voice. Clutching tightly onto his hand, and dressed in a small Chudley Cannon's robes was three-year-old Hugo. The toddler stuck out his tongue at his older cousin in support of his father.

Lily, who was also three years old, was skipping around everyone else, her flowery dress billowing around her as she moved. She was dragging her very small broom behind her, an action that was garnering her glares from both older brothers.

"Lily!" five-year-old Albus hissed at his little sister, "you're going to wreck your broom!" Albus' green eyes were large behind his small glasses. He proudly carried his broom over his shoulder like James, ensuring he was taking expert care of it.

Bringing up the rear of the small group, her nose buried in a children's illustrated book on Quidditch play, history, etiquette, and skills, was Rose. Her father carried her broom because Rose had been so absorbed in her book that she'd left it in the entryway of the Burrow. Of the five children carefully making their way to the orchard where the Weasley family played Quidditch, Rose had been the least excited to get on a broom.

Finally, the small group arrived at their location. Lily deposited her broom and began running after a butterfly. Rose plunked herself down in a shady spot on the grass and continued reading. The three boys eagerly turned their attention to Harry and Ron, awaiting the instruction to mount their brooms and take off playing.

Harry, who had been carrying a small trunk labelled Quick Quidditch Kids Kit, deposited it on the ground. It contained all the standard Quidditch balls but these were softer and, for those that did move, moved slower. The kit proclaimed itself as the best and safest way to teach young children the fundamentals of Quidditch and help them hone their skills. Harry had purchased it three months prior, when Lily turned three, to share his absolute adoration of the magical sport with his young children.

"Okay, Lily, Rose, if you could join us," Harry spoke, clapping his hands together in a gesture of readiness. Lily joyfully skipped over to stand in front of her father. Rose begrudgingly lowered and finally closed her book. Once all children's' attention was on the two men, they began.

"First," Ron began, "let's practice out flying skills. Then we can add in using the Quaffle and the Bludgers-"

"What about the Snitch?" James interrupted his uncle. Ever since James had found out his father had played Seeker for the Gryffindor house team, the young Potter had been obsessed with the position.

"Don't interrupt, James," Harry chided his oldest son before smiling, enjoying his son's passion for his favourite position. "Let's just work with a Quaffle and Bludgers before we worry about Snitches." James looked mildly disappointed, but still eagerly waited his opportunity to get on the broom. Ron seemed to pick up the desire, emanating most strongly from James, but also coming from Albus and Hugo. He turned to Harry and then back to the kids.

"Well, no need waiting any longer. Everyone, mount your brooms, but be careful." Ron directed the last comment towards his very young son. Hugo nodded at his father and, with slight apprehension, began slinging his leg over the broom. Upon mounting his broom, he wobbly flew over to Ron and grabbed tightly to his leg. Despite his enthusiasm, Hugo was still obviously nervous about the whole endeavour.

James was the most enthusiastic. He jumped onto his broom and began zooming around. Harry pulled out his wand and froze his oldest son in place. James shot his father an angry look and crossed his arms in a huff. Albus, also excited to get onto his broom, nearly jumped on his broom, but remained in place, waiting for further instructions.

Both of the girls were less enthused about Quidditch than their brothers. Lily would much rather be twirling and skipping on the ground and not flying. While always adventurous and willing to try new things, Lily was not interested in that moment of mounting a broom for the first time. In her three-year-old mind on that particular warm and sunny day, playing on the ground would be more fun than flying through the sky.

Rose, who always felt a need to be well informed, and sought out books and asked endless questions, felt she hadn't learned enough about flying to try it that day. She'd said as much to her father earlier that morning, that she'd try flying in a few more days after she finished her Quidditch book.

For their part, both Rose and Lily eventually mounted their brooms as well.

Because each of the five Potter-Weasleys were on child training brooms, they only hovered a few centimeters off the ground, coming up to the midpoint between Harry's knee and hip. They all hovered, relatively motionless –James because of Harry's spell, waiting for further instructions from their parents.

"For now," Harry began looking around the area, "try flying to that far tree and back. Get a handle on your brooms." Even before he'd finished speaking, James had taken off. Harry had removed his spell from his son as he spoke and James had begun to move almost as soon as that had happened. The child-friendly design of the broom meant that he wasn't actually moving all that quickly, but to James it felt like he was rocketing through the air. Harry was mildly impressed at the speed his young son was able to achieve. However, that feeling was quickly diminished when it became apparent that James had very little control over the device besides its speed.

The tree that Harry had picked as the target was about 100 meters away from where they had started and in a straight line. He had figured some would struggle a little, wobble on their brooms or end up a little off target, but be successful for the most part. However, despite the fact that James had begun by pointing his broom directly at the tree, he quickly ended up about 300 meters to the right. At some point during his fast flight, he had pulled hard to the right.

Harry's joy fell even more as he watched James attempt to turn around. The six-year-old had yet to figure out how to control the simple motions of his broom. Harry jogged over to his oldest son to give him pointers. As he was bent down instructing James to use his body and arms to help control the movements, the others began to try and make it to the tree.

Lily flew slowly and in a slightly meandering fashion. She looked to have slightly better control than James, but was only minimally focused on flying and was, for most of the trip, looking at the clouds in the sky.

Albus flew in a stop-and-start fashion. It reminded Harry of those scenes in Muggle movies where the characters attempted driving for the first time. It was a very jerky flight, which ended about halfway to the tree when Albus stopped so suddenly he was thrown from his broom. Luckily, Albus was close to the ground and not moving very fast so he wasn't hurt.

Hugo faired the worst of them all. After watching the three Potter's unsuccessful attempts, he let go of Ron's leg for his turn. He wobbled in place for a few seconds before sliding sideways and falling off his broom. He landed with an 'ooff' and promptly burst into tears.

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It was just before dinner when Harry and Ron finally stumbled back to the Burrow. They collapsed onto the worn kitchen table as Ginny and Molly busily worked on the meal for that evening. Ginny turned from the stove where chickens were being grilled to take in the site of her husband and brother. Both looked absolutely exhausted. Ginny chuckled at them.

"Rough day?" she asked, mirth filling her tone. Ginny had know, from the moment that James had informed her of the plans for the day, it wouldn't go very well. Harry had been a natural on the broom and the Quidditch pitch. There was no guarantee that the same would be said of even one of the five children would be the same. Ginny had predicted their current state.

Harry simply buried his head in his hands and let out a frustrated groan. Ron, who looked as tired and frustrated as Harry sounded, was still able to speak.

"I know that the first time on a broom will not typically lead to a resounding success, but this was a million times worse than I could have ever imagined. Even after hours of careful instruction and demonstration none of them were able to fly straight. That is a pretty basic skill. We couldn't even start playing Quidditch it was so bad!"

Molly, always the caregiver, had quickly made a pot of calming tea when the obviously distraught men arrived. She then set the pot and cups down on the table and began serving.

"I don't know what you expected," Molly chided, sitting down to join Harry, Ron, and Ginny for tea, "they are young children! Of course they aren't going to be Quidditch stars!"

"We weren't expecting stars," Ron muttered under his breath, though everyone heard it.

"It was just a lot more frustrating and difficult than we'd been thinking," Harry added.

"Well, with more time and practice, I'm sure it will become an easier task, trying to teach those young kids to fly," Molly added resolutely. She then stood from the table and went back to preparing dinner.

"I don't know if we'll try it again. At least not anytime soon," Ron once again mumbled under his breath. Molly, who had the well-honed hearing of a mother, heard Ron's comment and spun around to fix him with a withering stare.

"You will, most certainly, be taking those children out again. You've made a commitment. If those sweet little ones ask again, no matter how painful you may feel the experience is, you will go." Molly continued to fix her youngest son with a commanding, meaningful stare.

"Mum!" a loud, excited exclamation came from the door, ending the tension that had been building. All four adults turned to see a very excited Albus quickly making his way into the kitchen. An equally excited James followed him closely. The Potter boys fell upon the table, speaking over each other, trying to tell their tale to Ginny and Molly.

"It was amazing, Mum-"

"-flew as fast as I could-"

"-quite a rush-"

"-nearly made it to the tree-"

"-didn't run into anything or fall off my broom once!"

"I can't wait to do it again!" they both exclaimed at the end. At his sons' words, Harry, who had his head in his hands for most of the previous conversation, looked up. Throughout the entire process, Harry, and he suspected Ron felt the same as well, had only been focused on his frustration. He hadn't even considered how his children were feeling. But seeing his boys so excited even though the outing was realtively unsuccessful and disastrous made Harry change his opinion of it all.

It had been fun, spending the afternoon with his children and sharing with them one of his passions.

"How about we go out again tomorrow," Harry suggested. Instantly, James and Albus launched at their father and embraced him in a tight, loving hug.

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 _The End_

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 ** _A/N:_** _Happy Father's Day!_


End file.
